The misfits who populate two just-opened local plays — “Frankie & Johnny in the Clair de Lune” and “Moscow” — might be outsiders of various kinds, but their real trouble is being stuck inside something.

And not necessarily the most obvious thing: a tatty New York apartment in the first work, some unspecified metaphysical hell in the second. Instead, the characters are trapped in cages of their own making — hemmed in by regret or self-doubt.

DeAnna Driscoll, who plays the weary and cynical waitress Frankie, again shows her gift for characters that wield smarts and sarcasm to guard scarred hearts. Frankie is hosting the short-order cook Johnny (Jeffrey Jones) for a horizontal meet-and-greet. But it soon becomes clear he has more in mind than a one-night stand — such as having “three or four” kids (though they barely know each other).

Johnny’s stares give Frankie the creeps, and he gets way too excited about coincidences in their lives. Jones brings to him a cocksure confidence that has the subtle but undeniable sense of a put-on, as if Johnny (who loves to quote Shakespeare) is a combo of the fervent Hamlet and the fatuous Polonius.

McNally leaves the fate of this new union hanging, but it at least seems more promising than that of the duo in the folk song the play’s title name-drops.

It’s even harder to guess where the trio in Diversionary Theatre’s staging of the musical “Moscow” is going to end up, since it’s so difficult to figure where they are in the first place.

Matt, Luke and Jon occupy a space resembling a bare theater. They don’t know why they’re there, or whether the outside world exists. It’s the ultimate limbo, likened to Jean-Paul Sartre’s “No Exit.” But “Moscow” is more wrapped up in another play: Chekhov’s “The Three Sisters,” which Jon (Jon Whitley) convinces the others to rehearse.

The easygoing Matt (Angelo D’Agostino) plays along, while hard-edge young Texan Luke (Kevin Koppman-Gue) resists. The three work through several scenes, by turns funny and poignant, with each playing one of Chekhov’s iconic siblings.

The show has strong performances, a few hummable tunes (by Maury R. McIntyre) and some witty writing by Nick Salamone. Ira Spector’s direction adds warmth, but while the score is well performed (by Patrick Marion, Anna Brown and Rik Ogden), it can turn repetitive, and there’s an uneasy balance in some scenes between humor and earnestness.

“The Three Sisters” is an admirable choice of inspiration, but in this case, three plays in one might be two too many.